Breaking Point
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: During a rehearsal for the school play, Jack gets angry and goes on a rampage. F-Bomb zone!


It was supposed to have been fun for them all. A musical version of _Point Break_ in which Bodhi break dances rather than surfs and Johnny Utah sings a soul searching ballad at the end of Act I. What could possibly be more fun for a group of gay high school boys?

"Okay, guys!" David ordered from his place in the audience. "We're going to take it from Act II, Scene 3. I need to see Bodhi, Johnny, and Roach on stage."

David had taken the reigns as director after their usual drama moderator, Medda Larkson, had backed out, proclaiming the student written production to be beneath her talent. Unfortunately for David, his ex-boyfriend, Jack had been cast as Bodhi and, his new boyfriend, Mush, was the show's set designer. Things had already been strained between David and Jack – even though they had broken up months before and Jack was already seeing Blink – and having Mush there only added to the tension. Still, all three were professional enough to not bring their personal lives into the rehearsals. They were civil to each other and spoke as little as needed.

At their director's command, Blink and Jack reluctantly pulled their mouths apart and disentangled their limbs. They had spent their ten minute break in the back of the auditorium, exploring each others' mouths. David had rolled his eyes and said nothing.

"This is going to be Bodhi's big break dancing solo. You limbered up Jack?"

Jack gave his ex a cocky smirk. "I'm always limbered up, Davy. Start the music and I'll show you what I'm made of."

David didn't comment, but he nodded toward Snitch, who was on drums, gesturing for him to begin pounding out a beat for Jack. The boy jumped into his routine, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he danced. After a few simple steps, he jumped to the ground, spinning his legs about before coming up to standing atop his head. Despite being immature at times, no one could deny that Jack was the best break dancer in the school. No one else could have possibly played Bodhi.

It was while Jack was standing on his head that it happened. Everyone was entranced in the dancing and no one noticed that Mush was walking upstage, pulling a set piece stage right to set it up. Halfway there, the boy lost his grip on the slab of wood and it crashed down on the stage with a loud and resounding thud. At the sound, Jack lost his concentration and toppled over.

"I am so sorry," Mush called out sheepishly, struggling to pick up the slab. "It just slipped from my fingers."

Jack jumped to his feet, red in the face. He didn't appear to be hurt, but his eyes were blazing and they were focused on Mush. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!" he yelled as he stomped across the stage to where the set designer stood. "Do you not see that we're in the middle of a fucking scene?"

"I was just trying to get this set piece up…" Mush mumbled in reply, cowering beneath Jack's glare.

"Oh, you're fucking trying to get a fucking set piece up? What the fuck are we supposed to do, you dumb shit? We have to fucking rehearse! You should get your fucking shit done before we get here so you don't fuck us all up!"

"Jack," David yelled as he ran up on to stage. "Jack, stop it!"

"Shut the fuck up, Davy! Just cause you're fucking this dumb shit doesn't mean you can just stick up for him when he's fucking me up." Jack turned his attention back to Mush who was growing increasingly frightened. "Do I fucking come in here while you're hammering wood together and fucking screw with you? No, I don't! I'm a fucking professional, you fucker! Are you?"

"…Jack, it's a high school show…"

"Oh! Well that makes it fucking okay, huh?" Jack exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "So we should just put out a piece of shit, just because it's a high school show? We should just stop fucking trying? Is that what you think?"

"No…Jack, that's not what I think…"

"No, it isn't! Because you _don't_ fucking think. You just fucking do what you want with no fucking regard to any of us!"

Blink placed a gentle hand on his boyfriend's shoulder and pulled him back. "Jack," he whispered in a soothing manner, "you're getting yourself worked up for no reason."

"How the fuck am I supposed to do anything with this fucking shit going on? Is this fucker going to be pulling this shit during the performances? Should we just fucking put him in the fucking program as part of the fucking show? His fucking character could be 'Mush: the dumb shit fag' and he could fucking walk across the stage at fucking inappropriate times and annoy the fuck out of me!"

"Jack!" David bellowed. "You need to get a grip!"

"I need to get a grip? Do you not fucking see that I can't work with this shit going on?"

"Jack, I'm really sorry," Mush repeated. "I wasn't trying to mess you up…"

"Oh, he's sorry!" Jack mocked. "He's sorry! Fucking sorry doesn't fucking change the fact that you're a fucking pest." With that, Jack stormed off the stage, calling out, "I'm taking a break. If he's still here when I get back, I'm fucking finished here!"

When the door closed behind him, the boys were still all frozen in shock over what had just happened. Sure, Jack had a temper and wasn't shy about speaking his mind, but they had never seen him fly off the handles like that, especially over something as petty as someone accidentally dropping a piece of scenery. Mush was still quivering, having been certain that Jack was going to punch him. A few of the other boys gave him reassuring pats on his back.

"Ah…I'm sorry," Blink said softly to both Mush and David. "I…I don't know what's got into him."

"You shouldn't have to apologize for him," David said. He knew that the reason Jack had lashed out at Mush was because he was still angry at David for leaving him in favor of the younger boy. David had to admit that he hadn't been very kind to Jack in their break-up and he didn't blame the other boy for his anger. However, he had no right to take it out on Mush, an innocent bystander.

"You guys run lines with each other," David ordered. "I'm going to go check on him."

"Davy, maybe I should," Blink suggested.

"Thanks, but no. I need to do this."

David found Jack standing outside of the theater building, a lit cigarette in his hand. He was leaning against the outer wall with on foot flat against it. He didn't even look up when David came out.

"Did that make you feel better?" David asked bitterly.

Jack took a deep inhale on the cigarette, letting it out in a slow, steady stream. "No," he admitted, "it didn't."

"He didn't deserve that."

"I know."

"You've just been waiting for a reason to rag on him."

"You're right."

David emulated Jack's pose – minus the cigarette – and folded his arms. "Why didn't you just chew me out the way you wanted to? Why go after Mush?"

The question was met with a terse silence. Jack puffed away on his cigarette and David stood by, waiting for an answer. Finally, Jack shrugged. "I didn't want to admit how much it had hurt."

Now it was David's turn to be silent. It had never been his intention to hurt Jack. He had just realized he didn't love Jack and he didn't want to lead him on. "I'm sorry, Jack. I truly am."

"I know," he replied, nodding his head. "And I am too."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

"You're one of them."

David pushed himself away from the wall and situated himself directly in front of Jack. "Let's go back."

"I don't want to face them."

"They'll understand." When Jack didn't move, David added, "You're going to have to go back in there at some point."

The boy took a last drag on his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and smashing his heel against it to put it out. Without a word, he pulled the door open, allowing David to walk in before him, and followed in behind him.

When he re-entered the theater, Jack was very aware of the stares he was receiving from the other boys, and he ducked his head down in embarrassment. He knew he had scared them with his rant and he only hoped they wouldn't think any less of him. Even more unsettling for him with the way Mush was nervously fidgeting, a glint of fear visible in his eyes.

"Mush, I'm sorry," he said. "I had no right to say those things to you and my anger wasn't really directed at you. I only hope you can forgive me."

Mush cocked his head to the side. "Of course I can, Jack," he said, surprising everyone, especially Jack.

"And I want to apologize to all of you here. I can promise you it won't happen again."

A murmur went through the crowd of young men, discussing amongst themselves whether or not they were willing to be as forgiving as the victim of the incident. There were a few frowns and shakes of the heads and a few shrugs and nods. It wasn't until David stepped forward, though, that there was a definitive decision.

"It was something that happened," David said, placing a platonic arm around Jack's shoulder, "but it's in the past now. I say we just let it go and get on with the show. If we harp on every petty argument, we'll never get this show up and running and we'll be depriving the world of a musical in which bank robbers in presidential masks perform a bank robbery ballet. So are we all in?"

"Yes!" was the astounding reply, coupled with cheers for David's persuasive pep talk.

As things lulled back to normal – as normal as a musical based on a Patrick Swayze and Keanu Reeves movie could be – Jack felt Blink wrap his arms around him from behind. "Are you feeling better?" the eye-patched boy asked.

"Kind of."

"You certainly made a scene. I don't think anyone will forget that little tirade." Blink pressed his face into Jack's neck. "So what was that really about?"

Jack closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Blink's lips against his skin. Suddenly, none of it really mattered any more. "Like Davy said, it was just something petty. Something that will never happen again."

* * *

**AN:** This came about due to a challenge given by Frisky Wallabee. She asked me to write a fic in which the boys are doing a musical version _of Point Break_ and Jack has a freakout session.


End file.
